


i want you (to want me)

by sinkburrito



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, chaos dreams, ep 19 spoilers, oh but what if they were evil..., ooc behavior from their future counterparts but thats because chaos is just fucking with them, pov: i hit you with a bus full of angst, taz: graduation - Freeform, thanks atla for teaching me the word palanquin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinkburrito/pseuds/sinkburrito
Summary: Chaos shows Argo and Fitz a few more future scenes. They're both conflicted, but in different ways. Things that they want are not always things they should have, yknow?
Relationships: Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	i want you (to want me)

**Author's Note:**

> edit: just listened to ttazz and found out fitzroy is ace!! love that for him so in this fic assume that chaos is a dumb bitch that wrongly assumed that fitz being sexual is something that argo would definitely want and is, along with lots of other stuff, wrongly misrepresenting the characters in order to manipulate them.

Argo watches the cannons fire with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He turns to ask Chaos what had happened, but when he blinks, the scene is changed completely once again. 

He is still on the deck of the Moriah, but the ship has docked at an extravagant harbor with a magnificent city providing a backdrop. At the heart of the city rises a tall castle, gleaming and white. The way from the harbor to the city is paved with white stone, winding up as far as Argo can see. The street is lined with spectators, whole crowds of them.This is not what catches his eye; what catches his eye is the procession that walks along the stone path. 

At the forefront is a blue and gold palanquin, surrounded by attendants and knights on white horses. It seems like something out of a fairy tale. The servants put the palanquin on the ground, and immediately, a figure bursts out of it.

“Argo!” Fitzroy Maplecourt exclaims, practically flying out of the palanquin and sprinting across the dock to board the ship. But this is not the Fitzroy that Argo remembers; this Fitzroy is bedecked with rich robes and jewels, richer than Argo has ever seen in his life. Fitzroy looks older, much like Argo himself does, has grown out his baby fat and is all angles. To Argo’s intense discomfort, he notices that Fitzroy’s eyes are… different. Once a deep and warm brown, they are now an electric blue that seems to crackle and change. 

Fitzroy launches himself into Argo, clasping his arms around his neck and pulling him close, despite Fitzroy’s large height advantage. It jostles Argo, who did not expect it. Around them, the crew members are unperturbed and go about their business.

“Welcome  _ home _ , beloved,” Fitzroy sighs, burying his face in Argo’s hair. “You were gone for so long, I thought something might have happened.” Argo goes stiff in Fitzroy’s embrace.

“B-beloved?” he whispers, afraid he had misheard.

Fitzroy pulls back, brows knitting together in worry. “Are you alright? Does something trouble you?” he asks, fervently checking Argo’s face for any sign of distress.

“N-no. Nothing’s wrong,” Argo chokes out. “Just-- missed you.”

Fitzroy relaxes, to Argo’s relief. “I know, darling.” He pats Argo’s shoulder comfortingly. “But you’re home now, and you have nothing to worry about. I’ve taken care of everything.”

Fitzroy takes Argo’s hand and leads him off the ship, to the saluting of the crew. Argo feels in a trance, but follows willingly. Fitzroy leads him to the palanquin and pulls him in, and Argo feels the palanquin lift off the ground. As they proceed up the winding road, the crowds begin to cheer. Argo catches a few words like “Kraken” and “Stormbringer” and “Thundermen.” 

“Wow, they really love you, huh?” Argo asks. Fitzroy is pressed up against his side, hand entwined with his. 

“Of course they do,” Fitzroy preens, “But today, they’re cheering for you.  _ You _ destroyed the ship with rebels that tried to kill me, destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

Argo remembers the previous scene, where the words were not his own and he watched the cannons fire. “Yes, I did, didn’t I?” he mumbles. 

“You did,” Fitzroy affirms. He rests his head against Argo’s shoulder. “And you were  _ so _ brave.” 

Argo chuckles nervously. “I don’t know about that, I just gave the order,” he stammers, uncomfortable with the act. He hadn’t known anything about those people on the ship, and he’d killed them all--

Fitzroy smirks, which simultaneously sends a chill down Argo’s spine and lights a fire in his belly. He leans up to whisper in Argo’s ear, somehow clear and loud despite the roaring crowd, “There’s no need for modesty, beloved. Rest assured, I’ll reward your bravery when we get home.”

Argo swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Y-yeah, okay. That sounds good to me,” he croaks. Fitzroy leans back, looking pleased. Argo’s heart skips a beat as he realizes that the smile Fitzroy now wears is the same one he does when he gets something that he wants, like a crepe or a new cloak. It’s… nice to be something that Fitzroy wants.

Argo knows he’s never been that in the past. Fitzroy’s eyes tend to slide over him if he’s not talking (and sometimes when he is) and he’s never indicated that he sees Argo as anything but a business partner, a sidekick, and maybe a friend. This Fitzroy… the one that fawns over him and runs to hug him and holds his hand… this is unfamiliar. 

He blinks again and they’re inside the palace, in a vast room with a four poster bed and adorned with various furniture, all glistening gold. Fitzroy stands at a great wardrobe with his back to Argo, humming softly as he hangs up his cloak and begins to shrug off his outer layers (how many of those can there be? A lot, apparently.) Cheeks burning, Argo turns away and walks over to the desk. A letter sits atop it, addressed to  _ Fitzroy the Stormbringer _ from  _ Rainier the Lich Queen _ . He skims the letter quickly, which offers Fitzroy the services of a skeletal army in return for “weekly brunch when I’m in town.” 

“Don’t concern yourself with Rainier. You know you’re all I want,” Fitzroy says from behind him, and Argo turns around with trepidation. Fitzroy is now shirtless, showing a spray of anti-demon brands across his chest and shoulders, both of which are frighteningly well defined. Lightning arcs across his forearms, crackling just under the skin. White trousers are slung low on his hips, loose and dangerously close to slipping. Argo’s eyes rove across his figure, finally snapping up to his face, which wears a sharp grin. “Aren’t you going to claim your reward, dear?

Fitzroy crosses the room to stand before him, still grinning, and Argo gets the distinct sensation that he is being hunted. Just as Fitzroy reaches him, the scene freezes. 

Chaos shimmers into view behind the frozen Fitzroy, mouth twisted in the same terrible grin. “This could be yours, too.” they purr.

Argo scowls. “So, what, you’re gonna make him love me? How’s that supposed to work?” 

Chaos rolls their eyes. “I can’t fathom why he’d choose you; your head is just empty in there, isn’t it?” they complain. Before Argo can take offense, Chaos continues. “This is a possible future. I can’t guarantee his love, but maybe you just have to prove yourself to him. Here, you’re his brave admiral, someone  _ worthy _ of his love. Isn’t that who you want to be?”

Argo hesitates. Yes, he’s spent hours awake at night wondering what kind of person Fitzroy could fall in love with. Yes, he knows that he isn’t that person. Yes, he wants to be better. Yes, he’s entertained fantasies of proving his worth to Fitzroy by gallantly saving his life and being rewarded by a kiss, but who hasn’t? He knows that the fantasies are only that: fantasies. If Fitzroy does not love him as he is, he never will, no matter who he is.

He says as much to Chaos. “Don’t sell yourself so short,” Chaos deflects, “You can still prove yourself to him… all you have to do is do what must be done. He doesn’t see you as you are yet, but that can all change. I know him, and I know that the  _ feelings _ exist. He simply must let loose and act on them, just like you. It’s up to you if you’re going to give him that chance.”

Argo’s gaze flicks away from Chaos and studies the older Fitzroy’s face, the familiar made unfamiliar. Argo knows the sweep of his hair, but not the crown, and he knows the shape of his eyes but not the blue, and he knows the curve of his lips but not the shape they’re in now. Something about this Fitzroy is… cruel and harsh, despite all the pleasantries he had showered on Argo earlier, like a thin sheet covering a sharp sword. 

_ Not like this _ , Argo thinks.

Chaos watches him, grinning in an uncanny mirror of Fitzroy. “Now… all you need to do is give in, do what needs to be done. Claim your reward, Argo Keene.”

The scene unfreezes and Fitzroy waits in front of him, cocks his head in confusion.

“Beloved?” he asks, reaching up to cradle Argo’s face. Something so tender, yet Argo can feel the lightning in his fingertips buzz across his cheek. Argo tries to turn his face away, to say “Not today, I’m afraid,” but instead he leans forward and says “Of course, darlin’.” 

The scene begins to fade just as he feels Fitzroy’s lips brush against his own, a slight crackle under them, and Argo opens his eyes and sits up in bed, breathing heavily and sweating. He touches his hand to his lips slightly, and jumps when he feels the residual energy zap his fingers, gone as soon as it has come. 

  
  


* * *

“But what about… the others? What about Argo and the Firbolg?” Fitzroy asks, “Are they happy?”

“Ah,” Chaos hums, a knowing glint in their eyes, “I know what you want to know. Yes, they are happy. They have everything they want, thanks to you. And you have everything  _ you _ want.”

Fitzroy looks at the throne room and does not see a single face he recognizes. “Maybe,” he hedges.

“Yes,” Chaos insists, “You do.” And the scene unfreezes and—

Fitzroy watches, horrified, as lightning erupts from his own hands and electrocutes the prisoner. He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can do anything, he blinks and the scene changes.

Lively music is playing somewhere in the background, intermixed with laughter and conversation. Fitzroy is underneath a large white tent, aglow with candlelight in the setting sun. He looks down at himself and finds that he is wearing an all-white ensemble, embellished with gold and a cloak finer than even the ones he had seen in the previous scene. He stands surrounded by people he doesn’t recognize, who spin and dance around him. Abruptly, he realizes he is in the middle of a dance floor. He catches sight of Rainier on the other side, sitting by the — crepes table? Yes, that is a table with chefs making fresh crepes with all toppings imaginable. He can barely see her, but he makes his way towards the familiar face.

Someone grabs his hand before he can get very far. He turns around to see Argo Keene, grinning ear to ear. Argo looks… different. Very different. A scar stretches across his cheek, disappearing into a bushy beard. Fitzroy can see a couple gold teeth in his open smile, and something about him is simply… stronger. Fitzroy doesn’t know if it’s in a good way yet.

“Way you’re goin’, yer gonna make me think ya like Rainier better’n me!” Argo says.

Fitz is stunned for a moment, then twists his hand free. “Maybe I do,” he replies, posh and haughty. Something about this new Argo unnerves him.

To his surprise, Argo lets loose a bellowing laugh. “Any other day, that’d get me, I admit. But not today!” he exclaims gleefully, holding up a hand and waving it in Fitzroy’s face. It is gone too quickly for Fitzroy to see what Argo had meant, but the meaning is clear with the next words out of Argo’s mouth: “Not today, when I’ve finally got ya to marry me!”

Fitzroy feels himself go very still. Argo? Marry him? That was something… something he’d never even imagined. What it would be like to kiss him, maybe, and what it could mean when Argo gave him hot mint gum. Not… this.

Okay, maybe a little. Fitzroy’s been planning his wedding since he was five, and everything here fits the bill perfectly, from the crepes table to the perfect sunset to the white cloak gilded with gold. Everything is just… perfect. Too perfect? Maybe. He doesn’t want to ruin it though, so he lets the thought pass through his head without detaining them too long.

“I did, I did agree to that, huh,” Fitzroy stammers. 

“Yep, you did, and now you have to dance with me, oh mighty Stormbringer,” Argo declares, holding out his hand with an elaborate bow. Fitzroy takes it, hesitantly, and Argo pulls him into an upbeat dance that’s mainly stomping, something definitely not elegant.

  
  


Still, Fitzroy finds himself enjoying it, especially when Argo spins him across the dance floor. He forgets for a moment about the brands and the lightning and the four poster bed, and falls completely for the sailor across from him. 

Later, when they’re dancing to a slower song, Fitzroy gets up the courage to ask something that’s been plaguing him the whole night. Argo’s head is resting on his shoulder (he’s wearing heels to get even that high) and the strings and brasses seem to be sighing.

“Argo?” Fitzroy asks in a very small voice, “Why did you marry me?”

“Well, because I love ya,” Argo responds, confusion seeping into his voice.

“Yes, but why do you love me?” Fitzroy presses.

“Why, are ya having second thoughts or something?” Argo asks in a teasing voice edged with worry.

“No!” Fitzroy exclaims quickly, “No, no. I just… want to know.”

“Alright,” Argo agrees. “Well… When we first met, I thought you were a bit of a prick-- a big one, actually, and you were stuck-up and rude. Later, I got to know you and realized I was wrong, but it wasn’t until you helped me gain control of the Moriah that I realized how really powerful you were and what you did for me… how you loved me. I realized that I loved you too over the years as you helped the people of your kingdom, and our friend the Firbolg. You have a good heart, Fitzroy, and you use that to make the world better for so many people. That’s why I love you.”

Fitzroy feels his eyes well up with tears. That’s not who he is, is it? He’s not powerful, and he doesn’t have a good heart. He tries his best, but sometimes his best doesn’t want to be tried and he knows that he’s selfish, so selfish. He’s not someone good like Argo, or someone Argo would ever love. All he has is his love for Argo, but it’s corrupted and selfish and it  _ burns _ and he knows he could never give it up, not even to Argo. 

The scene freezes and Fitzroy closes his eyes as he feels Chaos hover over his shoulder. It’s funny how Fitzroy has been used to being the tallest person around (sans the Firbolg) and the most intimidating one in the room, yet Chaos manages to dwarf him in both respects. 

“You knew there was only one way he would ever love you,” Chaos sighs, and Fitzroy squeezes his eyes shut harder. “I’m only showing you things you already know. But you can still achieve this, if you just let yourself do what needs to be done. Let go, Fitzroy, and all this can be yours. Letting go doesn’t have to be damaging, it can just be something small, like dancing with Argo. Can’t you just let go and give yourself what you want, Fitzroy?” Chaos wheedles.

Fitzroy looks at the man across from him, scarred and greying, eyes a darkened teal that dance with mirth. He wants so badly that he aches, and he begins to reach out.

“Good,” Chaos encourages.

Then he remembers the Argo that he knows, the one that read to him as he lay dying, the one that sneaks out at night, the one that brings him hot mint gum, and he knows. He knows that Argo deserves better and that his love is one that burns, that hurts, that  _ he _ is burning out. He doesn’t want to hurt Argo, and he knows… he knows that inevitably, he always hurts Argo.

He lowers his hand and Chaos snarls and the scene begins again and Fitzroy begins to shake his head, but it nods instead, and--

Fitzroy wakes up to the warm sensation of another hand in his, but when he looks down, it is empty. He buries his face in his sheets and sobs quietly into the stillness, thankful that his roommates have their own room. 

**Author's Note:**

> i binge listened to taz and now im here with like 5 fic ideas. hi maplekeene hivemind please get out of my head for like two seconds... title from that one song i cannot be assed to remember by whom rn its just. yknow that one song thats the title of it
> 
> oh btw i know future fitz and argo are ooc and probably wouldnt say most of that (ie fitz being super affectionate and argo saying that awful paragraph that essentially boils down to "ur hot and powerful") and its bc in my mind chaos is making an illusion based on what they think the babes want the most combined with what would make them go with chaos so. some stuff is bad
> 
> so anyways. hmu @ bluestergold on ig or tumblr (not twitter tho someone else has that user and i :/ hm.) to scream abt maplekeene


End file.
